


The Replacements

by QueensJenn



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Angst, Gen, brofeels, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueensJenn/pseuds/QueensJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys are doing O-FAG, and Vegard has a bad cold. Luckily, they have guests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Replacements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Humbae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humbae/gifts).



“You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Vegard said, although it comes out as something more like “danks.” He shuffled into the radio studio and sat down heavily on the seat in front of the mic, drawing his hoodie around himself and shivering despite the hot weather. 

Bård eyed him skeptically as he sneezed, then coughed into a tissue. “You gonna be all right?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You should have called in sick. How are you gonna do a radio show with a cold?”

Vegard sighed, leaning his forehead on his hand on the table. “I tried. They wouldn’t let me. Look, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“Are you --“

“I’m not that sick!”

Bård said nothing. Vegard was the master of denial sometimes, but even he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t that sick, right? So rather than even try to cover it up, he made a joke of it, pointing out his brother’s heavy, congested voice and calling it ‘sexy’ and ‘sensual.’ Maybe it was a risk, but either Vegard didn’t mind or he felt too bad to get upset, because he didn’t say anything as they went into the first song.

He didn’t get any better as the show went on, but at least he didn’t seem to get any worse. The joke about his sexy, sensual voice seemed to have diffused the tension, and even he seemed to get into it. But between segments Bård could see that he felt like crap, resting his forehead in his hands, and then putting his head down on the table and closing his eyes as the music played. 

“Go home,” Bård said as the show came to an end. It wasn’t one of their better shows, to be sure, but they’d made it through without too many hiccups. Or coughing fits.

“Huh?” Vegard raised his head. His eyes were red and hooded. 

“Go home. Leave. Get out of here. Get lost. Scram.”

Vegard coughed into his hand. “I have to help you put the show together for tomorrow.”

“I can do it.”

“I don’t trust you. You’ll make me do something stupid.”

“No I won’t, maybe. I won’t even make you sing, if you don’t want to. Unless you’re feeling better, but all bets are off.”

For a minute, Vegard looked like he was considering it. On the one hand, he felt like shit, everything hurt, and he was pretty sure he was running a fever. Going home and crashing in bed was about the number one priority at that moment.

On the other hand, that meant he’d have to trust Bård to actually a) get the show done and b) not make him do anything dumb like call a sex shop or a prostitute or worse. 

Option number two won out.

“I’m staying,” he said stubbornly. 

Bård looked at him skeptically, something he was doing far too often these days, in Vegard’s opinion.

“Staying,” he repeated, folding his arms on the table in front of him.

“But —“

“Staying.” He pulled out a tissue and coughed into it quickly three times.

“Okay…” Bård shrugged and opened his laptop to begin preparing the next day’s show.

Vegard tried to help. He really did. He shot down the idea of calling a phone sex line, and declining firmly to have anything to do with the singing portion of the next show. Fortunately, they were being given a break, as they would have guest co-hosts; some band or another the producers wanted to foist on them for a bit of extra publicity. Bård was a little annoyed, and Vegard probably would have been too if he didn’t feel like such shit. 

The good thing was that it meant Bård could play off of them instead of him. Bård was good at that…Bård always had good chemistry with other people…he always knew how to make it funny…

Vegard tried not to yelp as his head hit the table. He jolted up, blinking rapidly, trying to pretend he hadn’t just dozed off sitting up. 

“Go home,” Bård said, and for once there was no sarcasm or mocking in his voice, just gentle concern and worry.

Vegard hesitated. _We really need a couch or something in here_ , he thought, before shrugging his shoulders in defeat. “Yeah. Okay.”

He didn’t miss the look of uncertainty and concern that Bård shot him, before he smoothed it out and nodded in triumph. “Good, you’re finally listening to me. You should know that that’s always the best option from the beginning. Do you need a drive? Please tell me you didn’t walk here.”

“No. I drove,” Vegard said, although he was slightly unsure that he should be driving right now.

Bård, of course, picked up on this immediately. “I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t have to — what about your car?”

“I walked.”

Vegard squinted at Bård, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. The little shit was a good liar though, and in his weakened state he couldn’t figure it out at all, so he just sighed.

“All right. Let’s go.”

They were quiet on the short ride to Vegard’s house just outside of town, quiet except for the occasional coughing fits that Vegard didn’t want to believe were getting worse.

“Get some rest,” Bård said as they pulled up to his house. He was still using that strange, too-kind tone and Vegard as caught between being amused, and bristling at being told what to do by his younger brother. 

“I will, goodnight.” He got out of the car and went into the house without looking back.

~~~

To his credit, Vegard did try to rest, as Bård told him. He laid in bed and closed his eyes, but the coughing fits ripped him back to wakefulness every twenty minutes, so by the time morning finally came, he felt worse than ever and fuzzy from sleep deprivation as well.

He looked at the phone lying on the table, wondering if it was even worth it to expend the energy to try to call in sick. He knew with utter certainty that he’d be told to come in anyway; they had guests in the studio today. 

Well, there was a relief, at least, he thought as he forced himself out of bed and into the shower. The warm, steamy room made the pressure in his chest recede, and by the time he got out, he felt almost normal again. 

A honk from outside made him jump and he looked out the window, only to see Bård’s car in the driveway, Bård himself leaning out the window with a very annoyed expression on his face.

“Come on!” he shouted.

Vegard slammed the window shut and got dressed in a hurry. He supposed he should maybe try to get a little dressed up for visitors, but in the end, decided it was too much effort. Sweats and a hoodie were good enough.

He hoped there might be a takeout cup of tea waiting for him in the car, but apparently Bård’s thoughtfulness only extended so far. They rode in silence to the station, punctuated only by the coughing fits which were beginning to increase again.

The producers met them at the door of the studio with two people Vegard had never seen before; the band that was visiting them that day. They exchanged introductions and fortunately, the newcomers seemed pleasant and willing to do anything. Bård was already warming up to them, Vegard could tell, and he couldn’t decide if he felt annoyed or relieved. 

They moved into the studio and started to prepare for the show. Bård had done most of the work on it; arranging and mixing the Morse lesson and dividing the hour up into increments so they wouldn’t go over time or have to leave anything out. Vegard knew he’d been there while all this was going on, but he couldn’t remember it so it was as new to him as it was to the guests. 

Before they knew it, it was time for the show to start. Vegard had gone back to feeling like shit, and his chest burned every time he coughed, but there was nothing he could do about it anymore, other than just get through it. It’s only an hour, and then they had the whole weekend off. 

Besides, Bård barely needed him there at all. His younger brother was getting on very well with their guests co-hosts; laughing and having fun with them and being charming as anything. Vegard swallowed down the strange feeling in his gut, unsure of what even to call it.

_What if he likes them better than me? What if he wants to work with them from now on, and not me? What if he decides he wants a new co-host? What if…_

“Vegard,” Bård hissed. “Morse segment! Coming up!”

Vegard raised his head. When had he put it down? The song was coming to an end, and the Morse segment was about to start. They had a minute or so of banter, and then he’d have to introduce it. He took a deep sip of his water and winced as it hit his raw, sore throat. 

Bård gave him a sharp look as he introduced the segment; his voice was hoarse and he was nearly going red with the effort of holding back the coughing. It took a few tries, but finally he got through it, and the pre-recorded segment began. He took another drink and tried to ignore Bård’s eyes on him.

He’d tried to avoid looking at the clock, but surprisingly, the show was almost over. All they had left was another song, then the ‘Facts’ segment, and then home. Just in time, too; Vegard didn’t know how much more he could take watching his little brother clown around and thoroughly enjoy having their two guests there, because it was clear that Bård loved them. Far more than he’d ever loved having Vegard as a co-host. 

Vegard was almost surprised when Bård asked him for a number for a Fact. He almost responded grumpily that Bård should ask his new best friends, but caught himself just in time, breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn’t actually said that out loud. Instead, he gave a number, somehow squeaking it out despite his ever-worsening throat, and didn’t listen to the fact Bård read out. The guests listened. Of course they did. Bård loved them.

Before even he knew it, the shoe was coming to an end, and Bård was reading the credits and thanking their co-hosts for coming. Vegard added his part of the closing, then slumped back in his chair, head bowed. He heard foosteps getting up, the door opening, muffled voices speaking some sort of gibberish that he couldn’t make sense of, and couldn’t be bothered to try.

Something warm and soft landed on his forehead. He opened his eyes. Bård was standing there, hand on his forehead and a worried expression on his face.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried. But you’re not fine; that cough sounds really bad. Maybe you should go to a doctor.”

“Aw, no, I’m not going to the doctor. That’s stupid. I’ll just go home.”

“May I remind you that I drove you here.”

Vegard glared up at Bård, asking him, _Are you really threatening to kidnap me?_ The look on Bård’s face confirmed that he was.

Vegard sighed. “All right then. Let’s get it over with.”

Bård smirked. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

Vegard wanted to reply that he didn’t _really,_ Bård had just threatened to hijack their drive home, but just getting out of the station was requiring all his breath. Just as he got to the door, he was hit by a major coughing fit and doubled over, black sparkles appearing in the corners of his vision. Dimly he was aware of Bård grabbing his arm and holding him upright as he tried desperately to catch his breath.

“Come on,” Bård said, tugging gently on his arm when he was able to stand up, still gasping. “Let’s get to the car.”

Vegard didn’t protest anymore. He just wanted to sit down. He sank into the passenger seat and worked on calming the spasms in his chest. Bård started the car and peeled out of the parking lot, driving as fast as he safely could.

“This isn’t the doctor’s,” Vegard wheezed as they pulled up to their destination. “You lied.”

“It’s a hospital. It has doctors in it. I didn’t lie.”

He wanted to argue more but that would have taken too much energy, and Bård was already coming around the side to open his door and pull him out. Briefly he considered pulling back and demanding to be taken home, but he knew it was useless. Once Bård got an idea in his head and took it htis far, there was no dissuading him. 

Once again, sparkles threatened to overtake his vision as they stumbled up the sidewalk to the front doors. Bård wasted no time in getting them to the front desk. The triage nurse took one look at them, then ushered them back into the curtained area, a small cubicle with a bed and chair and various pointy looking machines. Then they were left alone, looking awkwardly around.

“Sit down on the bed,” Bård instructed. “And take off your sweater.”

“Yes, mama.”

“Hey, the nurse is only gonna ask you to do that when she gets here, so might as well do it now.”

Vegard started ask just how Bård knew the nurse would be female, and how sexist that was, but started to cough instead. He sank back on the bed, arms wrapped around his sore ribs. At once, the curtain opened and the nurse - sure enough, a woman - entered.

“Let’s have a look at you,” she said, briskly but not unkindly. “Sweater off, please.”

Bård flashed him a look of triumph as Vegard slipped out of his hoodie. The air was cool against his clammy skin and he shivered. The nurse slipped an oxygen clip on his finger, then began listening to his lungs with a stethoscope that was far too cold for Vegard’s liking. He looked away as she drew blood, and noted with amusement that Bård had closed his eyes tightly so he wouldn’t have to see it.

“Well,” she said, looking at the readouts on the monitor. “Your vitals are kind of low. Let’s get you on some oxygen, and the doctor will be in in a little while.”

“That’s not —“ Vegard began, but the nurse shushed him. She put the cannula under his nose and turned on the flow, then left, promising that someone would be in shortly.

“This is stupid,” Vegard said stubbornly, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Just deal with it, it’ll be over soon.”

Rather than answer, Vegard just leaned back some more, and let his eyes shut for a minute. The lack of sleep from the night before was catching up to him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He yawned, unable to suppress it, and could almost see Bård’s knowing smirk. Sounds seemed hollow and far away, and he knew he was starting to drift off and that he should wake up, but couldn’t seem to find the energy. 

Suddenly there was a loud commotion out in the centre of the curtained area, as the front doors to the emergency department slammed open, and there was lots of shouting. Vegard lifted one eyelid as Bård got up and peered outside their little cubicle. He looked back and sighed.

“I think there was a car accident that just came in. Everyone seemed to be heading in that direction. Might as well get comfortable, I think we’re going to be here for awhile.”

Vegard groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Great. Just what we need.”

“Lie down if you’re going to fall asleep. You look stupid.”

Vegard snapped his eyes open. “Not falling asleep,” he grumbled, but slid down so he was lying down anyway. His entire body felt heavy, had they drugged him with something when he wasn’t looking? 

“You should have just called in sick,” Bård said, shaking his head. 

“Couldn’t,” Vegard said without opening his eyes. His answer was half swallowed by the pillow, but he didn’t feel like moving to pull it away. “Producers wouldn’t let me. Not with guests.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Even though…” Vegard heard himself continue, even though intellectually he knew he should just stop. He should really just stop right now. “You seemed to be…getting along with them pretty good.”

He imagined Bård shrugging. “Well, they were okay.”

“What if…” his voice dropped to a whisper, and the alarm bells were ringing in the back of his head, _stop, stop, stop now_ , but maybe it was the fever that kept him going. “What if I’d called in sick and you’d gone on without me, and you realized you liked them better than me.”

“Them?”

“Anyone,” Vegard clarified. “What if you just realized you wanted a new partner. Then where would I be?”

Bård sighed. “That’s really why you didn’t call in sick?”

Vegard shrugged as best he could. “Maybe.”

When Bård didn’t answer, Vegard risked opening his eyes. Bård was looking at him with an unreadable expression, somewhere between sorrow and annoyance. 

“You know that wouldn’t happen,” he said softly at last.

 _I don’t know anything anymore_ , Vegard answered, or maybe he only just thought it. He tried to turn over on his stomach, but the stupid oxygen tube kept him in place. He reached up to take it off, but Bård stopped him.

“Keep it on. They put it on you for a reason.”

“Wanna go home,” he muttered, but settled for turning over on his side and pulling the blanket up to his shoulders.

~~~

Someone was shaking his shoulder. He was very comfortable and warm despite the itching in his nose, and wanted very much to go back to sleep, but someone was shaking his shoulder and it was time to wake up.

Reluctantly, Vegard opened his eyes. He looked around, confused, at the strange surroundings until he remembered all that had happened - the show, the guests, Bård kidnapping him afterwards and making him come to the hospital. Bård, who was now standing over him and shaking his shoulder just a little more roughly than he had to, in Vegard’s opinion.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he said, glaring up at his little brother. “Ugh…what time is it?”

“Nearly six. We’ve been here for awhile. There was a big car accident, they sort of forgot about us.”

“Six…we’ve been here for five hours?” 

“Yup. Five long hours. Well, I don’t suppose it felt that long to you, seeing as you were out cold for most of that time.”

“Sorry.” Vegard sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Why didn’t you just go home and come back later?”

The look Bård gave him suggested that no, that was _not_ an option. Vegard shrugged.

“The nurse just came by to say that the doctor would be in in a minute, so maybe she’ll actually be right this time.”

“As long as there are no more car accidents, I guess.” Vegard looked down at his feet. “Look, what I said before, about you wanting to replace me, just…forget it, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Bård looked relieved that they wouldn’t have to have another emotional discussion. “Just leave it at this: I don’t want to replace you, with anyone, okay? So…stop thinking that.”

“Okay,” Vegard nodded, also relieved. 

They were saved from any further awkwardness by the curtain _swish_ ing open and a woman in a white coat entering. 

“Dr. Thorssen,” she said by way of introduction. She took a look at the numbers on the screen, then at the chart in her hands. “Vegard? Came in earlier with shortness of breath?”

“That’s me.”

“Well, your bloodwork came back. Looks like bronchitis, nothing serious. I’ll give you a prescription for antibiotics and that should take care of it. See your primary care physician if it doesn’t go away in a week or so.” Her tone indicated that she did not think it had been necessary to come to the ER that day. 

“Thanks. I will.” He pulled the annoying oxygen tube off, glad to be rid of it. “Anything else?”

“Well…” she looked down at her chart again. “Your cholesterol is rather high, and your blood pressure is slightly above normal as well. You’ll want to speak to your doctor about that, but in my opinion, you should lose some weight.”

Vegard raised an eyebrow, shocked at the woman’s rudeness, even if she was probably, technically correct. Behind him, he heard Bård gasp faintly.

“Is that it?” he asked.

“That’s all. Get this filled as soon as possible.” She handed him the prescription, then left the cubicle.

“Come on,” Bård said, his tone low and angry. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed Vegard by the elbow. 

“Okay, okay, ow! I’m coming.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, and let go. “You wanna stop at the pharmacy here and fill that?”

“Nah, there’s one around the corner from my house, I’ll go there.” Vegard had no intention of staying here any longer than he had to. He followed Bård out to the car, and was only slightly out of breath by the time they got there.

“ _Don’t_ listen to her,” Bård said. “You _don’t_ need to lose weight. Don’t even listen to her for a second.”

“I…I’m not…” Vegard said, somewhat mystified. Bård wasn’t a great driver at the best of times, but now he was driving aggressively, taking turns a little fast and a little sharper than he needed to. Vegard had no idea what had upset him so much, but he had a feeling. 

“You don’t have to be offended on my behalf,” he said mildly. “She just thought she was helping.”

“I’m not _offended_ ,” Bård said. They stopped in front of Vegard’s house. “And she wasn’t _helping_ , she was just being a bitch.”

 _I really don’t think that’s true_ , Vegard wanted to say, but he knew it would only upset him further. Something about the doctor’s suggestion of losing weight had really set him off. 

“I won’t listen to her. I’ve already forgotten it, okay? I’m not going to think about it again. Okay?”

“…Okay.” Bård still didn’t look convinced, and there was a a look in his blue eyes that Vegard couldn’t identify, and that scared him.

“Is there…anything you want to tell me?” he asked.

“No,” Bård muttered. “Go inside, okay? I’ll go get this prescription filled for you.” 

Vegard nodded and got out of the car. He watched Bård drive away, and was left with the impression that something important had almost happened.

~~~

Half an hour later, Vegard was curled up on the couch watching some mindless TV show when he heard the door open.

“It’s just me,” Bård called, coming into the living room with a small bag in his hand. “There was a huge lineup at the store.”

“No problem. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Vegard paused, wondering if he should bring up the little outburst in the car. He decided not to. “And thanks for…making me go.” He smiled ruefully. “Even if it was a bit of a long day. For you.”

That made him smile. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you Monday, okay? Unless you’re not better, in which case you’d better call in sick.”

“I will, I promise,” Vegard said, and he only felt a little guilty for lying. _The show must go on._  

 


End file.
